


A Marked Change in Form

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Unrequited Crush, Wall Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8094565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: Psylocke and Angel bait each other in the warehouse. Then they do other things ...





	

Psylocke stood in the warehouse and felt glorious.

She had always considered herself a realist. The world was hard and you simply had to live through it, get on with things. You accepted what was and you carried on the best you could. Working with Caliban might not have fulfilled any childhood dreams but it was something and it was important enough. They helped people, in their way. She could live with that.

But now, she didn’t have to. Now she was more than she’d ever been before, power surging under her skin like water. She felt enhanced in every way, glittering with new light. Not just her old powers either. She could feel new things bubbling under the surface, powers she didn’t begin to understand yet but knew what she would soon. Now, she could do _anything_ , could and would, at En Sabah Nur’s side.

Just thinking her new master’s name sent a flicker through her. She looked at him, standing with Storm and Erik Lehnsherr, creating sleek armour for him as he had already done so for Storm and herself. She shivered pleasurably as she watched, remembering the feeling of her old clothes fading away, En Sabah Nur’s fingers so close to her body as he’d redressed her. He hadn’t asked her what she had wanted, he had simply known, known that she didn’t want armour like Storm but wanted to be unfettered, released. Free.

Beside her, Angel’s wings clicked as he stirred. He was watching En Sabah Nur and Erik Lehnsherr too, his eyes filled with naked longing. He hadn’t been reclothed yet – although he had said nothing, Psylocke had a feeling that En Sabah Nur had wanted to find his last horseman before doing anything else. She didn’t blame him – if they had been any later, she had a feeling Lehnsherr wouldn’t have been around and they would have lost a valuable and powerful ally.

But the delay had had its consequences, it seemed. As she looked at Angel, looked at his open expression, his longing stare, she felt something in her mind, a stir of certain knowledge. She couldn’t help smirking at it.

“Sweet.”

Angel looked at her, scowling. He had an almost cherubic face, even when he was angry but Psylocke wasn’t fooled. She knew about Angel. More than one mutant who had come to them had spoken to the Angel of Death who fought in the cages, mostly with fear and respect. A few of them had even had scars from his wings. No, Psylocke knew just what this young man was capable of. 

And yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Not now.

“What’s sweet?” Angel snapped at her, obviously annoyed that she’d made a comment and then not elaborated. Psylocke found herself smiling more.

“Your little crush.”

“My _what?_ ”

“Your crush,” Psylocke repeated. “I don’t blame you. I understand.”

She understood better than he could know. When En Sabah Nur had been almost touching her, her body had burned. She looked at him now, stroking Erik Lehnsherr’s cheek and she wanted to be in his place. She wanted more than just feeling her clothes being rearranged. She wanted _more_.

Angel obviously had no idea what she was thinking. 

“I don’t have a crush!” he hissed, his wings flaring slightly. “How dare you suggest that I do?!”

Psylocke might have dropped it if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was scowling at her so angrily and bristling his wings, like he was going to attack her. As it was, she folded her arms and smirked at him.

“Everyone knows you have a crush, sweetie. You stare at him every second that you can, you don’t even hide it. You want him to _fuck_ you.”

Angel twisted, as though he was going to attack. Psylocke lifted her hand, letting her power curl over her fist in a glimmering ribbon. She didn’t want to fight Angel but she would if he started it. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Angel was shaking very slightly, his eyes wide. Psylocke wondered if he was considering what she’d said, thinking about En Sabah Nur taking him, touching him. What it would feel like to be that close to someone so powerful ...

“Looks like _you’re_ the one that wants to fuck him!” Angel hissed. He was speaking quietly, they both were. They didn’t want to draw the attention of the others.

“Maybe I do,” Psylocke said coolly. “Unlike you, I’m not ashamed. Why should I be?”

Angel smirked. He took a step toward her and Psylocke lifted her hand threatening. If anything, Angel’s smirk grew.

“I’m not scared of you,” he said. 

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe _you_ should be scared of _me_.”

Psylocke wasn’t. In fact, she was enjoying this and that tremble of power that lurked in her mind now told her that Angel was enjoying it too. Sizing each other up, getting the idea of each other. They would be working together for a long while, it was important to know what they would do, how they should be. 

“I’m not scared of you,” she said, smiling at him now.

Angel stepped towards her. She didn’t try to stop him. He was standing right in front of her, looking up at her slightly, thanks to the heels she was wearing. She continued to hold her ribbon of power but she held it just a little way away from herself, giving Angel an opening, if he wanted it.

Angel moved suddenly, sharply but not to attack in the way Psylocke expected. Instead, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a very good kiss. It was clumsy and wet and he clearly had very little experience but it was fierce and determined and so Psylocke kissed him back. She reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, holding him close, letting their teeth clash together, feeling Angel stick his tongue clumsily into her mouth. He pressed his body against hers, groping at her breasts, her hips with hot, desperate hands. She touched him back with deliberate slowness, stroking her hands down his chest but going no lower, even though she knew he was already hard.

She wondered what it would be like to fuck him. Clumsy as his kisses, no doubt. He probably had an idea of what to do but she betted nobody had ever trained him up, showed him how a woman liked it. He’d probably just shove it inside her and thrust a few times before coming, leaving her totally cold. But maybe not. He was strong, perhaps he had more stamina than that. Perhaps she could show him what she liked, teach him how to hold on for longer, make him be more gentle, make him be _rougher_ ...

She pushed a hand between his legs and Angel gave a little groan, squirming against her. He nuzzled at her neck, then dropped his head to her breasts, kissing and licking at the exposed skin. Psylocke ducked her head and bit the top of his ear, smiling when he gave a gasp.

“This isn’t a fight you can win,” she purred, massaging with her hand, smiling as his wings fluttered. “In any way, Angel.”

“You don’t know,” he breathed back. “You don’t know!”

“I know I’m going to make you come in your trousers before you can even get that low on me.”

He shook his head and she squeezed, smirking when his head tipped back. Oh, he was beautiful. He was so beautiful. Obviously intending to prove her wrong, Angel reached down and shoved a hand between her legs, pushing the skin-tight cloth upwards with greedy, groping fingers ...

Oh. Oh, _yes_. Yes, it was good, it was so good, even though he was clumsy and rough and clearly had no idea where anything was. But she was hot and wet already and she wanted _more_.

She abandoned caution. She abandoned good sense. She shoved Angel back against the wall, still kissing him, still touching him. He made no attempt to resist her, kissing her with ferocity, fingers still between her legs, the touch rougher than ever. Psylocke unfastened his trousers, shoving them down along with whatever underwear he had on. He gave a choked moan and pressed his face into her shoulder again, pushing at her leotard, getting it out of the way without her even needing to tell him to. Psylocke bit his lower lip, then sucked on it as she gripped his shoulders and lifted herself up, lowering herself onto him in one swift movement.

Angel’s hands gripped her hips, nails digging in, mouth opening delightfully. His wings flared to balance them both as she began to move, sliding their bodies together. Oh, he was strong and good and the little sounds he was making as she moved, the way he was looking at her as though he’d never seen anything like her before, as though she was amazing and beautiful and giving him something that he’d never even dreamed that he could have ...and his _mind_. The flickers of something else in the corners of her, his pleasure, the feelings coursing through him as she moved against him, everything coming together in a wonderful wash of emotion.

He came first, as she knew that he would, gasping against her shoulder, clearly trying to hold out and knowing that he couldn’t. He clung to her, panting, shuddering as she slipped off him, then shuddering more when she grabbed his hand and pressed his fingers into her, showing him exactly where she wanted him to touch. He obeyed unquestioningly, mouthing at her neck and hair, still making tiny noises of bliss. Psylocke closed her eyes, moving against his fingers, letting his pleasure fill her ...

She shuddered against his fingers, arching as she came, biting back cries. Angel was still pressed against her, his breath a little more even now. He stared at her with glassy eyes as she pulled back and adjusted her leotard.

“I win,” she said and grinned when she saw anger flare in Angel’s eyes.

“You – ”

Psylocke ignored him. She deliberately turned her back, as though she wasn’t afraid of what he might do. She wasn’t, although she was also very aware that he could choose to attack her. She didn’t think he would though. Angel had more sense than that. He was probably thinking about what had just happened between them, working out what he’d learned and what he would do next time. Because there would be a next time, she was sure of that.

The others appeared not to have noticed their tryst. En Sabah Nur was still standing with Lehnsherr, saying something to him. Lehnsherr’s head was bent and even from here, Psylocke could feel his pain niggling at the edge of her mind, could even hear a whisper form inside him: _I don’t want to feel, he’ll let me not feel ..._

This was new. This was strange. But it was very interesting.

So much power.

Angel stepped up beside her. Psylocke glanced at her and he gave her an almost feral grin. Psylocke grinned back. Good. She hadn’t underestimated him.

En Sabah Nur left Lehnsherr and walked towards them. He glanced at Psylocke, just once and Psylocke wondered what he was thinking. He knew, she was sure. He knew everything. He might not have appeared to have been watching but he would have been.

“Are you ready, my Angel?” En Sabah Nur asked softly, reaching out and stroking a finger down Angel’s cheek as he spoke. Angel gave a tiny sigh and his wings fluttered a little. The shocked desire that burned in him was ridiculously clear to Psylocke, even without her new found talent that was prying at the edges of his mind. She wondered if she’d opened his eyes to something that he hadn’t considered before. It was possible. Maybe Angel genuinely hadn’t realised what he felt until she had alerted him to it.

Well, that would make things different.

“I’m ready,” Angel said. “I’m ready for anything.”

En Sabah Nur did not respond to the boast. He simply reached out and Angel’s leathers began to fade, replaced with gleaming silver. Psylocke watched the transformation silently, enjoying it.

Everything was changing. The _world_ was changing.

And Psylocke was looking forward to seeing it all.


End file.
